She wound up in Camelot merely because she didn't know where else to end up. She had thick brown hair and walked very quickly, her eyes darting this way and that, so it was no wonder that Uther's men assumed her guilt: when they gave chase, she regained hold of the small bag about her shoulders and raced through the village wares, dodging around fish stands and a place where a craftsman sold handmade jewelry. When they had lost sight of her for but a few minutes, the woman jumped behind the jewelry man's stand and begged him to protect her, showing him the gold bracelet about her wrist; although he saw it for but a moment, it shined in the sunlight and had gems the size of the plumpest grapes. He nodded and allowed her to tuck herself beneath his counter, then he pushed piles of string and other objects behind the counter, and returned to beading his latest bracelet.

When the guards came round, they demanded that he tell them where he'd last seen the girl. "She appeared to be going to the castle," the old man said. "But she might have just been lost. Why are you looking for her?"

"That's not of your business, old man," the lead guard said, and they moved off in the direction the jewelry maker had instructed.

When they'd gone, the man uncovered the hiding place, and dragged the girl out back, into his home. "Thank you, sir," she said, trembling. The man crinkled his nose. Her hair was tangled and greasy, and she smelled of sweat and feces.

"Let me take a look at that bracelet," he said, reaching for her wrist. But she tucked it behind her back.

"I have just one more favor to ask of you," she said.

He narrowed his eyes. "Well, out with it then. But no trickery."

"No trickery," she promised, and then, "do you know of anyone who might have knowledge of a mythical creature that turns itself from human into wolf?"

He stepped back, frowning slightly. "You speak of magic."

"I speak of transformation, a strange but amazing ability."

"Magic is forbidden in Camelot."

"Camelot?" It was the girl's turn to look confused.

"That's where you are, dear. Now-the bracelet."

"Yes. No! You have yet to answer my question. Who might know?"

"Gaius, the old man at the castle, might have some idea. He has many books of magic and history. He's the only one who would know, if any."

"How do you suppose I could get to see him?"

"He and his boy come around every day about noon to shop in the market. That's the best place to find him. And the safest." He held out his hand.

Sighing, she showed him her arm and he unclasped the bracelet.

"It's a fine specimen indeed!" He exclaimed, touching the deep purple gems and turning the bracelet this way and that in the small light of the window to watch the reflection shift.

"Where did you get it?"

She rubbed her arms slowly. "It's a family heirloom," she said. "My grandfather was a great king before his kingdom was destroyed."

"Aye." The man continued admiring her bracelet, and she realized her wasn't listening. "Where was this great kingdom?" He asked a few minutes later. When he was met with silence, he looked up, but the girl had gone.

The girl tried to keep her eyes forward. She tried not to look guilty. But it'd been days since she'd last eaten, and she was very hungry. The wares made her mouth water: bright apples and thick bread and soft cakes. The sun was not yet high in the sky. She didn't know how to find this Gaius man, but she decided, since he had an assistant, that he was probably an older man, and his assistant should be young.

She stood admiring some jewelry boxes at a stand when she heard a disgruntled voice say, "Gaius please, do we really need all this cast iron? What will we be using it for, anyway?"

She turned and saw a young man about her age; he had dark hair and wore a scarf the color of blood and blue tunic. His face contained sharp cheekbones and his eyes were a deep brown. The girl's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He carried a bag of what appeared to be heavy wares (since he was sinking beneath their weight) and an old man walked before him, his blue cloak dragging on the ground.

She approached them slowly.

"Good grief, Merlin," the old man said, "you need to build your strength anyway. How can you be Arthur's servant with those weak arms, that whiny mind?"

When Gaius stopped to examine some hard bread, the girl came up next to him and pretended to examine some for herself. Her mouth watered, and she thought about slipping the loaf into her bag, but she needed information more than trouble at the moment.

"Sir," she said, holding the bread up for the both of them, "Do you know if this is a good piece of bread?"

"It looks fine to me, child. Thick, dark, solid. A fine selection indeed."

"Amazing. I'm new to Camelot, so tell me...have you ever heard of a creature that turns from human to wolf overnight?" She looked over at him, and Gaius looked up at her curiously.

He took her arm, and she dropped the bread back into its bin. He pulled her off to the side, by a watering trough and the side of a shed. "Why do you ask, child?"

Her breath stopped. His grip on her arm was not threatening, but still, her instincts told her to run. "Sir, I have heard stories, and I've been searching for someone who might know if they were true."

"Ah, a curious mind," he said, letting go her arm. "Merlin, come here boy." Merlin dragged the bag over from where he'd been standing in the road. "This young woman-what's you're name, dear?"

"Traya," tumbled from her mouth before she could stop herself. Merlin was looking straight at her, and she found it difficult to think with those eyes on her.

"Nice to meet you, Traya," he said, nodding.

"Traya is interested in learning about werewolves," Gaius said. "Would you mind finding the appropriate material and educating her?"

"But why, sir?" Merlin asked.

Traya blushed. It was clear to her that Merlin did not find her as alluring as she'd found him. Well fine then, she wasn't here to bother with boys anyway. She raised her head and answered before Gaius was able. "Because I am interested in learning," she said. "I come from a place where these beasts were once common, yet none seem to know of them."

"But..."

Gaius gave Merlin a piercing look.

"Okay. Follow me."

Traya followed Merlin through the gates of Camelot Castle, down stairs, through winding hallways, to a thick wooden door.

When they entered he dropped his bag on the floor and stomped toward some stairs that led to a room. "Great, now I've got to put all these blasted things away," Merlin hissed under his breath as he walked away.

Traya reached into the bag and pulled the first piece out easily-a large plate of cast iron, and placed it on the table. Next there were several goblets and a cauldron. She put them all on the table. Merlin came down the stairs with several books in hand. He was about to place them on the table when he saw the wares sitting there.

"You put those there?" He asked. Traya nodded. "You picked them up, all yourself, with no trouble?" She nodded again. He shrugged. "Could you do me a favor and put them on those shelves?" He asked, motioning to the shelves at the other end of the room. "It's too high for me."

She did as he asked, carrying cauldron and large plate at once. While Merlin shook his head at the feat, he was too busy skimming the books to put in too much thought.

Traya paced the room. It smelled strange: of chemicals and sweat. "Do you ever wash?" She asked, looking towards the room he'd entered earlier. The smells were strongest up there.

"Excuse me?" Merlin said, looking up.

"Do you wash? It stinks up there."

"Pft." Merlin answered, "You don't smell so great yourself."

Traya ignored his response. Close to the fireplace there sat a plate bearing chunk of bread and some cheese. "Are you going to eat this?" She asked, picking it up. Merlin shook his head without looking up. "Okay," she said, and sat down across from him. She bit into the bread and chewed slowly, savoring the food.

"According to this, werewolves turn into hideous creatures at the stroke of midnight every night," Merlin said.

Traya laughed, but by the time Merlin looked up, she had begun choking and she shook her head. "I never heard that," she said. "But go on."

"They turn into a wolf that continues to stand on its hind legs and will kill anything it can."

"I don't believe that," Traya said.

"Why not?"

"Can you think of a single creature that kills just for the purpose of killing?" She asked.

"Yeah; mythological animals."

"I don't think so. People just get scared of them."

"Well, they are magical..."

"I was told that. That Camelot doesn't allow magic. Why is that? It's not like that everywhere, you know."

"Do you practice magic?" Merlin asked, leaning closer to her. She liked his closeness, but wasn't sure if she could trust him.

"No. I was not born with the gift."

"Some consider it a curse," Merlin muttered, returning to his book. Traya was bothered by his disinterest in her normal self.

"I might have something," she said.

He looked up again.

"I could show you," she said. "But you would have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Show me what?"

"Promise!"

"I promise."

Traya walked over to the door and she began to unbutton her dress. Merlin covered his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Traya just smiled and let the dress slide down to her feet. Merlin was still looking away as she undid her nightgown. "Such a gentleman," she said. And then she was on all fours, snarling and growling and twitching into something else. Merlin, hearing the sounds, peeked, and before him stood a wolf, brown as the bark of a tree, her fur thick. She took a step towards him, and he leaped from the bench to the staircase. She kept coming forward, and he back, until she had him against the wall, and she sniffed his hand, then looked up at him, her tongue lolling.

"Merlin," Gaius said from the hall, and Merlin knew he had only a moment before the old man entered the room.

"Into my room," he said to the wolf, and she ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He slammed the door just as Gaius came in.

"Merlin," Gaius said, "What are you doing up there?"

"Just, um, shutting the door," he said. "I need to clean my room-it's starting to stink."

Gaius sighed and looked down at the open book on the table as Merlin came down the stairs. "The woman got what she came for, I take it?" He asked.

"Yeah, she-she learned what she needed, then she left. She's gone."

"You act stranger every day, Merlin, you know that?"

"Gaius, what would you do if you met a werewolf?"

"I would kill it, Merlin. Has the curiosity bug caught you now?"

"I suppose. Why would you kill it?"

"Because they're dangerous, evil creatures, Merlin. They can't be trusted; their bloodlust is too great."

After dinner, and after having cleaned out all of the cast-iron pots (which Gaius had made him take down from the shelves and return again after cleaning) Merlin was exhausted. And he had forgotten all about the werewolf; that was, until he got into his room and fell onto his bed. There was a screech, and he rolled off the bed and onto the floor, jumping back to his feet as quickly as he could.

There was a candle beside his bed, and he lit it with his eyes, which glowed orange from the magic; the girl was on the other side of his bed now, staring at him: she grasped the rough woolen blanket to her chest, covering herself. "Oh, you-your clothes," he said, remembering.

"Did you just light that candle?" She asked.

"I'll get your clothes," he mumbled, not answering her question.

When he returned, Traya was sitting on the floor next to the bed, leaning against the wall. He handed them to her.

"You can have the bed if you want," he said, kneeling before her.

"Thank you, but I really should go. I've offered you enough trouble," she said, picking up her clothes and waiting for him to turn around. After a minute, he did so, and she let the blanket fall so she could dress.

"You've been no trouble at all," he said, but there was no emotion behind the words, and she knew he didn't mean them.

"I don't like liars," she said, "And that was a lie." She didn't trust him anymore. She needed to get out before it was too late, before...before something bad happened. He might tell someone.

"I'm not a liar," He turned around while her blouse was unbuttoned, threw up his hands, sucked in his breath, and spun away from her again. "I'm sorry! I thought you'd finished."

"That sounds more honest, at least," she said. "You're a virgin, aren't you?" she smiled. "So easy to spot."

"Have you finished?"

"Yes. I'll go now." She walked to the door and paused. "It was nice meeting you, Merlin," she said, looking back at him. His eyes were dark. He looked exhausted.

"And I you," he said respectfully.

"Not all monsters are evil, just so you know."

"Neither is magic."

"I already knew that," she said, and left.

Merlin laid down to sleep and thought about the strange werewolf girl. She was so rude, yet seemed kind. She was perhaps even attractive beneath all of the grime. He wondered where she was from, and how she had come to be in Camelot. He rolled over on his side, thinking about her unbuttoned blouse and what it would be like to reach inside it...but no! He must be chaste.

Even if she wasn't.

Just as he was beginning to think he might never fall asleep with thoughts of the girl running through his head, Merlin heard the bells ring.

Traya.

She lay behind the bars of the cell. It stank and the little bit of straw that was offered as bedding was crawling with bugs. She kept away from it. Traya was still very hungry, but the little bit of bread she had gotten hold of had been delicious; it just hadn't worked. It didn't work. And now she was caged; she hadn't run fast enough. She paced the cage, trying not to think of the deep wound in her side. While it stung, it was not her greatest concern. Her greatest concern was how to get out of this cell. In a place devoid of magic, a person with her abilities was doomed.

What seemed like hours later, she heard a whispering by the side of the door to her cell. She cautiously approached the bars, sniffing the air. It was Merlin. She could smell that horse manure-sweat stink anywhere. He slowly peered around the corner.

"Merlin?" She said.

"What did you do?"

"I was hungry..."

"I could have gotten you more food. Stealing is not the way."

"I couldn't trouble you more-" she began, lifting her hands to the bars, but stopped, when the gap in her pulled open further. Perhaps they got me better than I'd thought.

"You're hurt," he said, staring at the blood that had wounded her side.

"No Merlin, I'll be fine. The concern should be when they find me healed come morning."

Merlin looked up at her, eyes widening, sharp cheekbones pointed straight at her. "Healed?"

She smiled. "Yes, Merlin. Your books offer an outline of my kind, but no specifics. We heal very quickly. However...we won't heal after death. Which is why I need to find a way out of here."

"Well, they should let you go. Uther knows only that you stole-he won't execute you for that."

"Did you hear me, Merlin?"

"You'll be healed...why did they attack you?"

"Merlin. There are things you're better off not knowing." Traya leaned back against the wall. "I tire. But there is something you should know, as I may be the last of my kind, and someone ought to know."

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

She slid along the wall to the floor and closed her eyes. "I am the daughter of a king. He and his entire court was made up of pure werewolves; royalty and servants alike. In the south there were many more of the werespecies-some have the power to transform into cats or ravens or even lions. But something, a disease perhaps, has been killing us off. Or maybe it's magic," she said, looking into his eyes, and then away once she saw how closely he was listening.

"How did you survive?" He asked.

"My family sent me away to live with friends far away. I was only a baby then; hence I know very little about my powers, other than the physical results. But it's lonely Merlin. I don't like being so alone all the time," she said, wrapping both hands around the bars and rising to her knees. She leaned her forehead against the bars and he crouched down in order to sit before her evenly. "Merlin, you seem like such a sweet guy, and I wish you could have seen me clean and not restless. But restlessness is in the nature of a wolf. And trouble is at the top of my duties." She smiled.

"Seems to be at mine as well," he said. "I will find a way to get you out of here, I promise," he said, touching her hand briefly. It was a touch of kindness, not affection.

"We shall see," she replied, crawling to the far wall in order to curl up and attempt at sleep.